A Pen and Darcy Lewis
by molescout
Summary: Being involved with the Avengers can be exciting during the fighting but like the rest of life, there are always boring necessities. Fury's meetings are one of them. A Loki/Darcy Oneshot. Set in the post Avengers movieverse.


**A Pen and Darcy Lewis**

They were all there, sitting around the table, well, all but him. Loki stood away from the group, near the windows as had become his habit. It was best for all involved. None but his brother was comfortable with his nearness and the dark prince had no desire to be nearer the mortals than the terms of his punishment dictated.

One hundred years. He could not return to Asgard for one hundred years and then, only if he spends the majority of his time aiding the humans in whatever tasks they set before him. It had been a hard sell to the Midgardians but never had he seen Thor more eloquent or persuasive. If they had not agreed, Odin's second choice for punishment still sent chills down his spine: permanent banishment to Jotunheim. Banner had been the first to agree, then the captain, followed by the widow and her sentimentality for second chances. The last to agree had been the man of iron and Loki's previous minion, the hawk. Apparently throwing a man from a building or taking his free will cause them to hold grudges more than others.

He'd spent the first two years exhausting his diminished magic wells with the repair of the city he'd tried to conquer first. The citizens of New York bore him no ill will, in fact they rather liked him, but that had more to do with the fact that they were unaware that he was the god behind the Chitauri attack. Most of them thought he was only one of their indigenous mutants who had a heart for altruistic works. S.H.E.I.L.D had done a fine job of covering up his transgressions against the population of this realm and he found himself both grateful (they didn't know he was a failed despot) but also irritated by it (they thought he was not but an abnormal mortal). Only the members of the Avengers and those closely associated with the group knew of his true origins. Well, at least that was something he was quite used to of late.

He glanced back at the table when he heard something clatter to the floor. He didn't need to; he already knew what had caused the sound and who had been responsible for it.

A pen and Darcy Lewis.

Nearly every meeting to which the verbally incontinent woman was invited had her writing utensil fall to the floor at least once. The reasons for its plunge downward tended to vary. Once, she'd fallen asleep momentarily and Director Fury's stern vocalization of her name had roused her so quickly that the pen fell from her hand. Another time, she'd been twirling the object around her fingers in a rather bored manner and it had escaped her grasp to clatter halfway across the room. His favorite however, was the day she threw it at Tony Stark for some comment about the generous size of her breasts that she'd found offensive.

After a quick glance, he found that today's was little more than a fairly common display of her monumental clumsiness. He returned his attention to the window and resumed his halfhearted attention to what Fury continued to prattle on about. He let his thoughts drift through the dull minutes until something caught his attention and it wasn't something outside. His position by the window was not so that he could look out on the unimpressive vista of human engineering. It was because, from where he stood, he could see the entire table and its occupants reflected with relative clarity. He liked being able to keep an eye on them when they thought he was paying them no mind at all. It was a strategy he'd adopted early on, when he'd still considered them his enemies. Now he did it more out of habit and so that he could catch any random object that Stark decided to toss at his head. The man of iron was now a firm believer that Asgardians had eyes in the back of their heads despite how vehemently Thor had denied their existence. Loki, on the other hand, let him continue in his delusion. But it was not Stark who caught his attention through the reflection today, no, he looked firmly asleep behind his sunglasses. It was none other than Miss Lewis.

He watched for some time as her eyes would dart up to him and then back down to her lap again. When she continued to do it for over twenty minutes, he couldn't hold back his curiosity any longer. He teleported to the area of the room behind her, leaving a doppelganger where he had been standing by the window. Invisible and silent, he crept up behind the odd human woman and looked at what she'd been doing in her lap. There, on the tablet she held, one that was undoubtedly supposed to be used to take notes, was a rather impressive likeness of himself. She had roughly sketched out his form and was now filling in the little details, like the cut of his Midgardian attire and the way he had his hands clasped behind his back. He watched her for several minutes until he noticed that her hands had ceased in their work despite the portrait's incomplete nature.

He then looked to find she was now staring at his doppelganger, no longer casting the furtive glances of before. Her head then tilted to the side, staring at it intently for a few more moments before she broke her eyes away and did a quick visual sweep of the room. Such a curious creature, he couldn't discern exactly what she was doing now, just as he often had a hard time following her train of logic when he heard her speak to others. Then she hunched over her sketch and began to work anew. However, it seemed like she was not working on his likeness anymore but on something below it. When she straightened, he saw a tiny line of script. Unable to read it from his current vantage, he leaned in closer to see exactly what she'd written.

'_Like what you see?'_

What?

Then her pen, which she'd been toying with between her fingers again, flipped over her shoulder and hit him right on his invisible face. If anyone had been paying attention to Darcy, they would have seen the way the pen fell unnaturally to the floor. Loki was back, replacing his doppelganger just as Fury asked Miss Lewis if she could kindly keep control of her writing utensil. She muttered an apology, sounding sincere but Loki could see the smirk on her lips after she retrieved it once more.

Somehow, she'd known. She'd known that he wasn't by the window any longer and she'd known that he was standing behind her, watching her work. Then she'd drawn him into a trap, announcing silently to him that she knew. Then the little twit had tossed her pen at him to confirm her suspicion. Clever girl.

If she'd actually wanted an answer to her written question, he would have answered yes. This was the first time since his sentence had begun on this unremarkable ball of dirt that he'd actually been amused.

XxX

Over the months, it became an unspoken game between them. He would leave his double by the window and she would try to catch him reading her little notes over her shoulder. She had an uncanny ability to spot when he was no longer himself but only a copy. He didn't know how since they didn't speak to one another but he continued to be impressed by it. He was also impressed by the fact that she had never told anyone about it. She seemed like a person that couldn't keep anything quiet for long but here they were, playing yet again while they were supposed to be paying attention to the goings on of the meeting.

Today's note had amused him to no end.

He'd left his double almost at the start and as soon as she noticed, within 30 seconds, she'd written, _'You're the God of Mischief… yet these things have always been completely boring. Lost your touch?'_

Who was he to leave a challenge unanswered? During the course of that meeting, Banner spilled his coffee on the captain's lap. Stark's chair broke sending him sprawling on the floor and Fury got a wicked case of the hiccups. Miss Lewis was also afflicted but not by anything he did directly. She kept coughing in order to hide the laughter that kept trying to escape her.

Before each meeting ended, he would be back by the window and would watch everyone leave through the reflection. Lately, he watched her leave and today was no different. He watched as she gathered her bag from beneath her chair and stuffed her notepad and pen back in before heading off to do whatever her purpose was here in this building. Just as she disappeared through the doorway, Thor stepped up behind him.

"What made today different?" His brother asked with a surprisingly quiet tone. Loki turned to regard him. He'd been perceptive enough to know that the oddities of today's gathering were not coincidental.

"Whatever do you mean?" He responded with mock innocence. Thor just looked at him for a moment. Despite the couple of years that had passed, their relationship was still strained. Thor was his jailor on this realm after all. Thor was able to return to Asgard on occasion. Thor was still… Thor, while he was only Loki. Loki, the failed ruler of two realms, the once puppet of a malevolent but defeated titan and now prisoner of a realm he had been a party to harming. The gulf between the two 'brothers' had little hope of narrowing in light of the circumstances, their combined shame over the past too much to easily overcome.

"They were your doing."

"And if they were?"

"Why now?"

Loki only rolled his eyes and turned back to the window, now actually looking out in order to avoid his brother's accusing eyes. "Boredom, nothing more." He heard Thor open his mouth, only that oaf would be so loud in simply opening his maw but the future king said nothing. Instead, he turned away and left the room through the same doorway she had.

XxXxX

Another month, another meeting, another chance at distraction. This one proved early on that it would be lengthy and immensely frustrating when Fury started in on a diatribe on just how they were not to make such a mess of the area they were supposed to be protecting. He knew they were all looking his way after the director finished with that little tirade. He scoffed internally. The creatures were made of fire and were burning down city blocks that Loki was most likely going to have to repair once it was all said and done, so he covered ten city blocks in a thick layer of ice cream. He didn't know what the big deal was. The sticky substance could be cleaned up far more easily than burned out buildings. It was his lot in life to be given reprimands instead of praise even when he'd done something 'good'.

When he deigned to look at everyone's reflections once they'd moved past his contribution to saving the city, he found Miss Lewis staring his way and not the way she would stare when trying to discern if he was a doppelganger or not. This time she was just looking at him… him. Then she started scribbling quickly in her notebook that continued to be just for show. Once finished, she looked at him again and started tapping her notebook nonchalantly with her pen, a small grin on her face. He took the bait and was behind her and invisible a moment later, his double safely by the window.

'_I like ice cream. I thought it was genius. Only one problem though…'_

He stood there, embarrassingly aware of the ridiculous amount of pride he felt at her praise as he waited for her to finish the line. He found he cared far more to know what her one problem with his solution had been than he did about the opinions of anyone else seated at the table. He actually started to fidget when she didn't make a move to finish after several minutes. She had to know he was there. She would know that it was his double by the window and not him so why the delay? Why not finish her thought on the page? Why make him wait?

Finally, he could hold himself back no longer. With a delicate flick of his wrist and a few soundlessly mouthed words, his refined script appeared below hers on the page.

'_And what problem did you see?'_

He heard her sharp intake of breath when the words appeared. He saw the small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as well before she bent over to answer his question.

'_You used vanilla and that's just boring. Should have gone for a Ben and Jerry's flavor or something.'_

Loki rolled his eyes and was back by the window almost immediately, somewhat irritated for a moment that he'd waited for minutes and deigned to converse with the girl for that… to learn of her preference in ice cream flavors. It was several minutes before he decided to check the reflection of the room but what he saw surprised him. She looked dejected.

He sighed before replaying the events of the meeting though his mind. It didn't take him long to decide that he should not have been surprised by her actions and he most certainly should not have been upset by them. In truth, he wasn't. He was upset by his circumstances and how the director had highlighted the absurdity of them that morning. Darcy had done what she'd always done with him, goaded him into a reaction. Today had been much like the first time he'd read over her shoulder and had been hit in the face with a pen. This had been her ploy to get him to communicate with her. He gave another wave of his hands, this time visible, knowing full well that she happened to be glancing at him when he did it.

'_I will keep that in mind for next time, Miss Lewis.'_

He smirked when he saw her jump slightly when she finally looked back down at her notebook but her shock was quickly followed with a face splitting smile.

XxXxXxX

"No, they are lying. While inside of their facilities, I found they didn't even have a fraction of the weapons that they are boasting."

"So they aren't a threat to us?"

Loki shrugged. They weren't a threat to him so he supposed they weren't a threat to Fury's mythical 'us'. "They have little in the way of offense." He responded instead. It seemed like it was good enough for Fury who nodded and began to talk about the next topic. Loki turned back to his window and sighed. Darcy Lewis was not at today's meeting. Though he was curious as to why, he was unwilling to raise anyone else's curiosity with an inquiry.

XxXxXxXxX

A week later, Darcy walked into the conference room looking a bit peaked. So she had been unwell. Mortals had such weak bodies that he was amazed they'd lasted for as long on this realm as they had. After the meeting got into full swing, he scrawled a message on her pad.

'_Do not get sick again, Miss Lewis. Do not leave me to brave these horridly boring meetings on my own.'_

He saw her scribble something of her own, a wan smile on her lips. He teleported behind her to see what she'd written.

'_I will keep that in mind for next time, Mr. Mischief.'_

He let himself smile. Oddly enough, he found he would have liked if she could have seen it.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Months later, yet another meeting had come to an end. This time, much to Loki's consternation, Darcy never took her notebook out of her satchel, instead, she just sat there looking apprehensive. Also, her attire was… somewhat different. Her neckline was a bit lower and instead of the pants she wore with her work attire, today she wore an eye pleasing skirt. He'd noticed it the moment she'd walked in the room, so had Tony Stark.

"Hot date after work Darcy?" He asked, taking a long appreciative look at the way her attire flattered her hourglass figure. Loki suddenly found the idea of Stark going blind rather appealing.

"That's the plan metal man." She replied with a tight smile.

Today, Loki barely took notice of the meeting or the people in the reflection. Instead he stood there brooding over two reciprocal and infuriating ideas. He found that the idea of Miss Lewis involved in a relationship actually bothered him, not to a great extent, but it had annoyed him after she'd confirmed it. It was the fact that he cared at all about her extracurricular activities at all that truly bothered him. It should be a non-issue. She was nothing more than an amusing distraction during banal meetings. It should not matter that she made herself more pleasant for another man than she normally did for this room… or any of the people in it.

His thoughts strayed to what he knew of Midgardian courting practices. It was barely courting at all, more like thinly veiled excuses for fornication. His hands fisted at his sides when that thought crossed his mind, when he thought of some pathetic human pawing at Darcy's well crafted body, fumbling about while seeking his own pleasure and likely incompetently forgoing hers altogether. She may only be mortal but she deserved far better than that.

He checked her reflection again to see her biting her bottom lip and toying with her fingernails. This must be someone she was looking forward to seeing, for perhaps the first time, if her displays of nervousness were any indication. It seemed that she was paying about as much attention to this meeting as he was with her nervous fidgeting.

It ended an hour later and he maintained his position next to the window, more agitated now than he had been in the nearly three years he'd been on this realm. It was a sound that drew his attention back to the room that should be empty by now. The sound of the pen hitting the floor made him turn and he couldn't help the surprise and... relief he felt at seeing her still sitting there, notepad in her lap and retrieving the pen she'd just dropped. Once she sat back up, she wrote something on her notepad. He hesitated but considering they were the only ones in the room, he decided to forgo the normal clone trick and just walked over to her. He decided not to think about the way his heart rate had risen slightly or the suspended relief he felt that she was still there.

'_Would you like to get a drink or something?'_

He hesitated but only because, just at that moment, did the full realization hit him. Her manner of dress, her words to Tony Stark, her nervousness throughout the meeting and her dropped pen had all been for him, for this moment. He smiled. This time she got to see it.

"I think I would like that drink."

She laughed in a very relieved sort of way with a smile of her own and wrote,

'_Thank god.'_

"Indeed."

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

AN: This has been a slow going idea where I wrote a couple hundred words here and there. For my first ever one shot, I wanted to see if I could write a believable fluffy fic where the ever-talkative Darcy never _says_ a word to Loki and still make it work.

2nd AN: A few grammar changes but mostly I added a little actual meat to a couple of the scenes, mostly Loki introspection. Now who can't do with more of that? Price of Mischief fans, expect an update in the next day or two... promise.


End file.
